Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter Karen Dahlstrom arrived at folk music the long way around. Raised on show choirs and jazz ensembles, she built her early voice around the precision of Sarah Vaughan and Ella Fitzgerald, earning attention as a gifted soloist. But a preoccupation with technique eventually led her to step away from singing for much of her twenties. When she returned to music at thirty, it was with a different compass—one pointed toward directness, storytelling, and emotional truth.
Now, with her full-length debut Love These Days (due out March 27th), Dahlstrom delivers an album that feels less like an introduction than a culmination. Self-produced and steeped in lived experience, the record moves through anxiety, grief, disconnection, and hard-won acceptance with steady resolve.
Now in her fifties, Dahlstrom leans into imperfection—both lyrical and sonic—as a form of honesty. Self-producing for the first time, she embraces instinct over polish, trusting her own taste and perspective. The title track subtly nods to her jazz roots and the music of Willie Nelson, whose Stardust album quietly shaped her early understanding of the American songbook. In connecting those threads—jazz discipline, folk minimalism, and country’s narrative pull—Dahlstrom locates her own musical center.
With Love These Days, Karen Dahlstrom emerges as a songwriter unafraid of time’s passage or life’s detours, crafting songs that feel weathered, companionable, and deeply human.
Today, Glide is excited to offer an exclusive premiere of “Can’t Help Myself,” a song that thumps with soulful authenticity and road-weary folk power. With its big harmonies and airy instrumentation, the song feels confessional and emotionally impactful as Dahlstrom uses her lyrics to explore addiction and the kind of questionable relationships that keep pulling you back in. The song culminates with a short but eloquent and hard-hitting guitar solo to drive its power home.
Dahlstrom describes the inspiration behind the tune:
What’s bad for us is often the hardest to give up. I wrote this about addiction to a person, and the desperation of getting pulled toward them time and time again. I originally wrote it quickly on a short deadline during a songwriting retreat, not really thinking it was anything at the time. I forgot about it until I had a chance to play it with a band, and it changed the way I thought about it completely. After so many acoustic recordings, it was a blast to stretch out a bit with the instrumentation and vibe on this song.
LISTEN:
